


In His Eyes

by kaclydid



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, destruction of Lake Town
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-28 08:21:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10827462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaclydid/pseuds/kaclydid
Summary: Requested from Tumblr: Reader is the daughter of Bard. Reader meets Smaug one day after adventuring into the Mountain like one shouldn't do. They become close. Reader mourns for the loss of the dragon after Bard kills him.





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> The first part, which I just learned I hadn't ever posted here, was requested on Tumblr ~2 years ago. Finally got around to writing the second part.

You had always been mischievous, just like your father. After your mother had died, leaving behind four children and a depressed father, you had taken it upon yourself to help out as much as you could. Lately, though, that drive to work and care for your family had waned and you had started to wander off once more.

  
Ever since you were a child, and your father would attest to this, you would loosen the hold your mother or father had on your hand and disappear in the throng of the marketplace crowd. You loved finding small hiding spots or nooks. Loved making up stories, retelling the ones from bedtime, or just getting lost at times.

  
It was no surprise when you had found your way to the Lonely Mountain one summer. Your father and siblings thought you had gone off to collect supplies for the little apothecary shop you worked at. They had been told you’d be gone for a while, and everything you told them had been true. You had found the different herbs and flowers you needed, and then went off on your own little adventure.

  
The small crack in the stone wall was just big enough for you to climb through as an unseasonal rain started to fall. Pulling your pack higher onto your shoulder, you started through the palace. All the stories and tales you had been told of the dwarves and their forgotten home did not do it justice. The large stone corridors and staircases shone in the minimal light a bright green color, caked with dust and dirt from the years.

  
After finding a rather high, safe (you assumed) spot to make camp until the rains died down, you didn’t realize you were not alone.

  
Below you, in the cavernous depths of the mountain palace, came a rumbling sound accompanied by the sound of something rather large shifting its weight over metal. You crawled to the edge of the overlook you were sitting on and pressed your stomach to the cold ground.

  
When the noise came again, your heart fluttered and you rushed back, pushing away from the edge and pulling your knees up to your chest as you found the wall. You had heard plenty stories telling of the dragon hiding within the mountain, but you had hoped you wouldn’t come across him. The beast was somewhere below you, somewhere deep inside the mountain, and you had a feeling he had been woken by something.

  
You sat still for some moments, hoping that if the creature did venture from wherever he was, you’d be hidden from him and you’d walk away unscathed. Slowly, though, your intrigue got the better of you and you stood, pulling the torch you had lit from the wall sconce.

  
The sleeping beast was moving about the even larger cavern as you entered from a high set doorway. The room, in and of itself, seemed to glow from the very center of the hoard of gold coins and gems. As you stepped to the edge of the staircase and laid eyes upon the beast, you almost dropped everything and ran.

  
For some reason, your feet stayed planted to the marble floor.

  
The small piles of gold pieces littering the floor at your feet trickled down in their own little avalanches as you walked towards the stairs. You stopped in your tracks as a relatively large stone tumbled from its perch and bounced down the stairs, the banging of each landing echoed through the halls.

  
You scrunched your eyes shut and froze, listening to the dragon move once more as the stone found purchase, ringing the gold coins as it came to a stop.

 

“I knew you were here,” a voice said, shaking you to the very bone.

  
Slowly you opened your eyes, one at a time, and looked around. The dragon had settled once more in a nest of coins. His orange eyes were open, and as you stood there, you realized his sight was trained on you. You felt your breath leave your body in a silent gasp.

  
“Don’t be shy,” his voice came again as he shifted his massive head.

  
“I should go.” You had thought you said it to yourself, in your head, but as the dragon shifted once more, you realized you might have been wrong.

  
“If you are not here to steal from me,” Smaug started, large arm moving to push him out of his nest, “You may stay.”  
“I should really go,” you said, this time a little louder. And yet, you turned back around and stepped to the edge of the walkway you were standing atop. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you, dragon,” you said, voice shaking a bit.

  
“It is not you which interrupts me,” he answered. “Sit. Nothing bad will come of this.”

  
You hesitantly stepped forward, slowly starting down the stairs, all the while keeping your gaze on the beast who lay before you. He was enormous, and you found yourself racking your brain trying to remember the stories you had heard as a child. Surely, none of them had done justice to the creature before you.

  
He was beautiful, for lack of a better word, you thought as you rounded the staircase and stepped over the gold pieces as you walked towards the dragon. Both of his eyes were open now, watching your every move. They were a bright orange color. The color of a sunset over the lake, or of flames.

  
Gulping down bile as you stepped up, you nodded. “I am sorry to disturb you,” you started, choking on your words as you spoke, “It was not my intention.”

  
Smaug’s massive head moved, and following close behind, his body. He crawled around the room, which, now that you were standing on the bottom level, you realized was much bigger than you had originally thought. The hoard shifted as he moved, his wings and tail butting against the pillars to create a cacophony of different echoes, or on some of the smaller archways and footbridges, a crumbling avalanche of stone, gold, jewels, and debris.

  
“You are from Lake Town,” he hissed. He was no longer facing you, but still moving. You caught yourself watching his large, yet lithe, form move around the room.

  
“I-I only came inside to get out of the rain.” You tried making your voice seem stronger, but failed, and Smaug’s head turned back to you, his large mouth opening in what you hoped was a chuckle.

  
It came out raspy and more like a roar as he slithered back to his previous resting spot. “A likely story. Not one I believe, mind you.”

  
You looked around, stepping over a large stone as you backed away. “I am not here to steal from you. I- I was curious. I’ve been told stories of your presence since I was a child. I only wished to see the halls of Erebor for myself; to see if the stories of the beast within were as true as they say.”

  
“Curious little ones do not last long,” he laughed, settling back down into his nest of gold as he fixed his gaze on you once more. “The storm will rage on through the night, sit,make yourself comfortable.You will be warm here.”

  
Your heart was racing so fast your weren’t sure whether it was thunder or your own blodd pumping through your ears that you heard. All you knew was that you were safe, and apparently not the dragon’s next snack. You nodded and looked around as you tried to settle your breathing.

  
Smaug’s eyes closed and he took a deep breath as you started for the stairs where you had entered. Within minutes you had reached your small little camp, and grabbing a pack you headed back for the stairs.

  
You had thought you were heading back to the entrance, but somehow your feet pulled you back to the dragon. Shoulders slumping as you took in the side of the hoard once again, you dropped your pack and sat down, crossing your legs under you and your arms across your chest. On one hand mad at yourself, and on the other curious to find out how this night was going to end.


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The destruction of Lake Town ...

Keeping your adventures from your father wasn’t as hard as you had thought it would be. For months now, whenever you got the chance to head out of town to go foraging, you snuck back into Erebor and visited with the Dragon. To your great surprise, Tilda loved your ‘made-up’ stories of your adventures, and your father Bard never suspected anything.  
At least, you thought he didn’t.  
  
As the months wore on, he became increasingly curious about your whereabouts. You thought it was just him being ‘dad’ and never paid much attention to it, telling him you were trying to work more often to pay the dues you owed the Master.  
  
It wasn’t until the dwarves arrived at your home that you began to be suspicious yourself. The company wanted to go into the mountain. A mountain they thought was still closed. A mountain that hid a dragon they thought still slept undisturbed.  
  
You gulped as you listened to the dwarves speaking amongst themselves as you cleaned the dishes from supper. They wanted to kill the dragon.  
  
The dragon you had come to admire.  
  
A beast, you laughed quietly to yourself one night after tucking Tilda in. Just like one of those stories.  
  
Over the year or so it had been since you had found your way into the halls of Erebor, you had visited at least once a month, wandering the halls, looking at artifacts, or sitting on a high outcropping of stone in the treasure room, telling stories to the dragon as he lay over his gold.  
  
In return, he never threatened you, or accused you of stealing - except that first time - and would regale you with stories himself. You found those the most interesting, as you had no idea whether or not they were true or not.  
  
To say the least, you had come to care for the dragon. Treating him more like a lost pup that needed a safe and warm home, you wanted nothing more than to protect the creature.  
  
As the dwarves wandered around Lake Town for the next few days, you became increasingly worried over the well being of Smaug.  
  
Catching you sulking one afternoon, Bard steps up, acting as if he was helping dry the dishes from supper. His eyes trailed to you, though, and you almost laughed as he cleared his throat in that way dads do when they have to talk to their grown daughters about … stuff.  
  
You smiled, sidestepping to retrieve the rest of the dishes. “Yes, da?” you smirked, stepping back up to his side.  
“Is - is everything alright?” he asked a bit hesitantly.  
  
You smiled up at him. “Of course,” you answered, forcing yourself to seem so, “Just fine. Why do you ask?”  
  
“You -- Tilda and Sigrid -- well, Tilda and I, noticed you’ve been … not yourself lately.”  
  
You had to chuckle at his stuttering. You had heard stories from your mother when she was alive that Bard was not the most eloquent when it came to speaking about something so nerve wracking. “Da, everything’s fine! It’s just … with the dwarves here … I’m worried.”  
  
“Oh,” Bard sighed, and you swore you saw his shoulders relax. “It’s not … not a boy or young man that --”  
  
“Da, no!” you laughed, turning to face him. “In a way, perhaps, but no! My friends are fine, I just worry … about all of us.”  
  
Bard nodded. “Just -- if you need to talk, I’m here. And if any boy gives you trouble -- I’ll be here.”  
  
“I know, da,” you smiled, wrapping him in a hug. “Goodnight!”  
  
Almost sprinting to your small room you shared with Sigrid and Tilda, you had to keep yourself calm. Tilda was already fast asleep, but Sigrid was up, sewing some skirts by the light of a candle.  
  
“Something wrong?” Sigrid asked, looking up as you walked around the bed where Tilda slept.  
  
“Just ... “ you started with a sigh, “Boy trouble, I guess.”  
  
“Oh,” Sigrid smiled, “Is it that Jak again, or?”  
  
“No, I haven’t seen him since Bain pushed him into the lake,” you laughed. “It’s a new one … I met him on one of my travels … It’s really nothing, I just worry about his safety.”  
  
“Oh,” Sigrid repeated, bowing her head to return to her sewing.  
  
“I’m going to get some rest,” you said after a few moments. “Goodnight,” you added as you pulled the quilt up to your ears, eyes trained on the dirty window on the wall in front of you, which granted a view of the Lonely Mountain.  
  
***  
You found yourself unable to return to the Mountain that week as you had planned, because, of course, the Master had put his foot down. On top of the dwarves’ coming out with their plan in front of the entire town, your father had opened his mouth and started to fight, landing in a rather damp cell.  
  
You crossed your arms, watching as the dwarves loaded themselves onto the boats, the younger of them staying behind to care for his brother. Biting your nail, your gaze trailed to the mountain.  
  
In less than a day’s time, the company of Thorin Oakenshield would be at its gates, trying to find a way in.  
  
“I’m just saying,” you started, anger rising as the elf worked on the younger dwarf laying on your dining room table. Sigrid sighed as you started once more, pouring more water into a pan. “It’s a helpless thing, really,” you started. “It shouldn’t have to die!”  
  
The dwarves, you came to realize, were rather daft, especially the young one fauning over the auburn haired elf maiden. You were sure they could figure out what you were talking about, and Sigrid had learned what you had been hiding for over a year.  
  
“But, it’s dangerous, how are you … How did you even make it out?” she asked on a harsh whisper, helping tear more bandages as you handed her more linens.  
  
“I told the truth,” you answered, glancing over your shoulder as Kili let out a cry of pain. “I wasn’t there to hurt him or steal from him, I just needed to get out of the rain.”  
  
Sigrid nodded, dropping her gaze as you continued your work. “But, you’re sure …”  
  
“He’s just trying to survive, he shouldn’t have to die. Maybe if I leave now … I can get to them, warn them!” you tried, voice dropping to a hushed whisper as Tauriel and the dwarves spoke.  
  
***  
A day later, as you were trying to pack a bag to take to the mountain, it happened. A booming sound erupted over the lake, drawing your gaze to the window. The mountain seemed to stand as it always had, dark and empty, but from your vantage point, you could just make out lit braziers at the gates, and was that something rising into the air?  
  
You breath hitched as the townspeople up and down the walks started screaming as that something became more defined as it flew closer to Lake Town. The dragon had been awoken, and it was hell bent on razing the floating town.  
  
Life seemed to move in a blur over the next few hours as half of the town was engulfed in flames within minutes. Loading your siblings onto the small boat with the dwarves and the elf, you were almost in the clear when the bridge overhead collapsed, blocking your path to escape.  
  
Eyes searching through the smoke and fog, they landed on Smaug as he circled high above, a roar the only indication before more flames spit forth, engulfing another section of town.  
  
You remember meekly Bain dashing from the boat to run to your father, which he had seen apparently You remember screaming ‘No!’ as the dragon landed on the rooftops, lips curled and ready to spit another bout of fire.  
  
“Da!” Sigrid called, eyes trained on the steeple of the Master’s house as it tilted precariously from the loose and broken beams of its foundation.  
  
“No, Da, no!” you screamed, following her gaze. Your father was notching arrow after arrow, firing without hitting anything. And then you saw it. Saw Bain climb up and help your father to his feet. Watched as Tauriel got the boat moving once more and the black arrow was notched and aimed over Bain’s shoulder.  
  
****  
Morning came, and you found yourself sitting with Tilda and Sigrid, huddled together to keep warm. Tears fell from everyone as the smoldering pile of timber that was once Lake Town was consumed by the lake waters.  
  
Smaug was dead. Shot down by your own father to reclaim some family legacy.  
  
Your heart dropped as your gaze lifted to the Mountain. The stories, the long days you had spent walking the halls, collecting herbs from the fields between the Dale ruins and the gates into the mountain, were all gone. The dragon, that was killed because a group of dwarves craved their home more than anything, was gone. Your life of adventure seemed to be done with as well.  
  
You heard your father’s voice before you saw him. And before you could react properly, Tilda and Sigrid were running towards him. You followed, allowing the three younger ones to greet your father. You kept the blanket around your shoulders as you stepped up, brushing tears away from your face. “You’re alive!” you smiled weakly, letting Bard hug you.  
  
It had been years since your father had comforted you, since Tilda was born and your mother had died, you had grown up so fast, Bard’s fatherly embraces didn’t occur much, as all of the attention was on the others, trying to keep them well.  
  
He was crying, you realized, because you were all safe. “You alright? None of you are hurt?” he asked as Tilda and Sigrid were pulled into the embrace once more.  
  
“We’re all fine, Da,” You murmured, pulling Bain into your arms against his short lived protests. Lying would be best, as you couldn’t very well tell the Dragonslayer that he had killed one of your few friends in the entirety of Middle Earth.  
  
You nodded as he released you, watching as he stepped to Alfrid. Glancing over your shoulder at the lake, you sighed, only snapping out of your thoughts when Sigrid wrapped an arm around you. “I’m sorry.”  
  
You took a deep breath, looking up at the men and women looking to your father to tell them what to do now that the Master was dead. “Yeah …” you nodded.  
  
It was a few more hours before your father found you and pulled you to the side, inquiring as to your feelings. For all he knew, a young man had been killed during the dragon attack that had caught your attention.  
  
“Are you alright?” he asked.  
  
“A … friend,” you answered, shrugging towards the lake as you shook your head. “It’s … it’s nothing really. I just lost a close friend.” Raising your gaze to look up at him, he offered a sincere smile. “Thank you, Da. For everything,” you nodded, wrapping your arms around him.


End file.
